Scars Never Shown
by Tinuviel Undomiel
Summary: Non-Curse AU: Following the tragic death of his eighteen year old son, Tristan Gold leaves Storybrooke to get away from the memories and mistakes. Seven years later he returns and discovers that Belle French, his late son's best friend, has a few secrets of her own. Rating will probably go up.
1. Prologue: Burying the Dead

Disclaimer: I don't own OUAT, if I did I would have a whole lot more money in my bank account.

A/N: Yeah, this wasn't supposed to happen. My muse was not supposed to attack me again, but alas, here we are.I've always wanted to do a Non Curse AU set in Storybrooke and finally inspiration struck. I was actually sitting on this idea but my friends on tumblr really wanted this fic. I'm still working on all of my other stories, I promise, my muse is just easily amused and since there is only one me, it takes time to write. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this new fic.

WARNING: There is an underage relationship in this fic. Technically since the age of consent in Maine is 16 there is no underage issue, but I know some people can still find that weird so I thought I'd put that out there first.

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><p>Prologue: Burying the Dead<p>

It was a cold day in March when the church bell's sang a solemn tune. The town of Storybrooke, Maine was silent. No children played in the lingering snow, shops were dark and locked tight. The only sign of life came from the church as the congregation left the bleak halls to carry on with the dismal deed ahead.

No one spoke a word as they followed Father Langston up the hill to the rows and rows of headstones and the mirthless monuments to the ones who had long gone. Behind the grim priest, Tristan Gold walked alone. Normally his limp and his can would make him one of the stragglers, but today he was at the head of the assembly. He looked at no one but he kept his eyes on the path ahead. Someone had the foresight to shovel and salt the gravel walkway. His shiny loafers were soon coated with dust left from the salt, but that mattered not at all to him. There was little to care for anymore.

Ahead of the good father and Gold, six young men carried a gleaming mahogany casket. It was handcrafted, sanded and polished until was blinding in the morning sunlight. Gold never too his eyes off the wooden box that held all he truly held dear.

The pallbearers stopped at one empty plot in one of the rows of headstones, nestled beneath two barren oak trees. The men carefully put the coffin on the apparatus under the canopy that shielded the six foot hole cut into the earth. Gold took his place beside the coffin. The others gathered around, spectators to his grief.

A brand new stone rested at the top of the hole. The words were carved into it's clean, granite face:

_Neal Bailey Gold_

_Beloved Son and Friend_

_February 17__th__ 1989—March 8__th__, 2007_

Gold didn't listen to Father Langston's final speech. He kept reading the headstone over and over. Beloved Son. Somehow those words just couldn't convey the depths of how beloved he was. Only two weeks ago they had celebrated his birthday. Eighteen, a few months away from graduating, his whole life ahead of him and one cruel twist of fate ended that. Two weeks. Not his whole life ahead, just two short weeks.

"Mr. Gold?" He tore his gaze away from the stone to look at the priest. "It's time to say your final goodbye."

Someone pressed a white rose into his hand. His legs were wooden as he walked to the coffin. The flower quivered in his fingers before he put it on top of the casket. He stopped and lay his palm flat on the lid. The wood was cold, no breath of life stirring beneath it. He knew that, but this was the last moment he would have with his boy.

Everyone held their breaths, waiting for something: for him to bury his face into his hands and cry, for him to rip the lid off the coffin and hold his only child, for him to scream at God for taking his son away too soon. He did nothing. He shuffled away from the casket to let the others say their goodbyes.

Neal had been loved by all. He was popular in his school and in town, unlike his father. Gold watched as his son's classmates and teacher all filed up to place their flowers. Only one dared to look at him.

Belle French sniffled as she put her rose down amongst the others, when she turned around and looked to Gold. Her pale blue eyes were so vibrant against the black dress she wore, dusted with snow. She had been Neal's friend since he was fourteen and she a year younger. Even Gold had been surprised when Neal had taken in the skinny bookworm under his wing back when she had first arrived from Australia. She was a good girl, sweet and just as beloved by the small town as Neal. She had blossomed into quite the beauty since her gawky adolescent years. Neal had never said, but Gold always thought perhaps their odd little friendship had grown into something more. Seeing her tearstained face, her cheeks and nose red, Gold actually felt a bit more than just his own grief.

When the last flower was laid, nearly blanketing the top with white petals, Father Langston bid them all to grieve, but to remember that Neal was in a better place. They did not fill Gold with cheer.

His final act for the whole ceremony was to walk forward and throw a handful of dirt over the coffin. He stood and watched as the casket was lowered, slowly sinking into bowels of the earth, disappearing from view. Once the joists stopped, Gold limped to the mound of soil. It was surprisingly large, a miniature mountain of brown sitting beside the grave. Was all of this to sit on top of his son for all eternity? He dug his hand into the first. It was cold, almost solid. The diggers must have toiled to break the frozen ground for him in the dark hours of the morning. He squeezed the dirt into his fist, feeling a pebble dig into his palm. That small bite of stone was all that kept him from falling apart. He stopped at the foot of the grave and stared at the coffin below him.

No parent thinks about this moment as they hold their newborn baby in their arms, when they first drop him off to school, or feed him cookies when his first crush rebuffs him. They think of seeing his face light up when he gets his first car, the pride they feel when he walks across the stage to get his diploma, or the joy he will feel when he is holding his first child. Gold would have none of that. This was the end of all of those dreams. His future lay six feet below him in a wooden box.

Slowly, he let the dirt slip from his fingers. It rained down onto the coffin, disturbing a few of the roses. And it was done.

He didn't move from his spot. He wasn't even aware of the other mourners leaving. They had said their goodbyes, they would grieve for a few days, but for them life would return to normal in a week or two. Not for him. Everything he'd worked for, his whole purpose in life was gone.

The warmth of a hand slipping into his startled him. He turned and met the watery blue eyes of Belle. She attempted a smile, but her lips only curled up part of the way. He stared down at their joined hand then met her eyes again.

Everyone else had gone. It was just the two of them and the diggers who each had a shovel, ready to put the earth back in the hole. So they stood there in silence together as shovel after shovelful of dirt was dropped onto the coffin. There was surely a gathering at Granny's with food and commiserating over the love of one so young, but it seemed neither was ready to leave Neal yet.

It wasn't until the final shovelful hit the loose earth, the last scrape of soil against metal, that Gold felt the final piece of his heart shatter. The tears he had held back fell in earnest, perhaps never to end. His boy! His precious boy was gone!

All that kept him from going mad was the warmth of Belle's hand as she squeezed his fingers.


	2. Chapter 1: Welcome Back to Storybrooke

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.

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><p>Chapter 1: Welcome Back to Storybrooke<p>

"This is the captain speaking. We are now beginning our descent into Boston Logan International Airport and we should be at our gate in about twenty minutes. The weather is clear and is seventy seven degrees. I would like our flight attendants to prepare the cabin for arrival. We'd like to thank you all for flying with us today and hope you choose us again on your next trip."

Tristan Gold was already sitting straight up in his seat, his fingers digging into the arm rests. The scotch neat he'd had earlier had only gone so far to calm his nerves. It had been a six hour flight from Los Angeles and he still had a two hour drive before he reached Storybrooke.

His stomach swooped down towards his shoes and it had nothing to do with the plane. He'd left Storybrooke seven years ago and never thought of returning. He hadn't planned on anything really. He'd wound up in L.A. because it was as far from Maine as he could get. The closer he got to his former home, the more his stomach coiled into a knot.

His companion did not have the same ailment despite the fact that she had been gone from Storybrooke far longer than he. Cora Mills was using her compact to reapply her lipstick and go over her hair one more time with her perfectly manicured nails. The large diamond ring on her left hand winked in the lights of the First Class cabin. She met his eyes through her mirror and have gave him a smile. "Don't be nervous, darling. Everything will be all right."

"I'm not…not nervous, per se," he told her, "it's just…"

"I know," she said, "It's hard. I can't imagine how painful this is, but I'm glad you're here. You know how much I've missed Storybrooke and with Regina starting her first term as mayor, I feel it's important to be there for her."

He envied that with Cora. Her daughter was alive and well, starting her climb up the political ladder to fulfill her dreams. He had once had such dreams himself. He'd always hoped Neal would go to law school, maybe run for District Attorney then the State Attorney General. Sometimes he had even fancied his boy becoming President.

It did no good to remember those things. Those dreams had ended long ago. He never forgot the pain of losing his only child, but at least now the moments of bone-crushing sorrow were fewer and far between. If he tried hard enough, sometimes he could remember what happiness felt like.

Cora's return into his life had helped him immensely. Three years ago he'd run into her at a minor function. She'd been dating a plastic surgeon then, but that hadn't stopped either of them from engaging in some casual flirting. It had been nice to feel like his old self again in those moments, to remember a time when he'd been happier and the future brighter. Their previous relationship had ended thirteen years before but it neither one had carried a grudge. Then this past year Cora had come to him for a prenup. Apparently the surgeon had asked her to marry him. The hours the two of them had spent forming that document had reminded him of their younger years, when he was still finding his feet and she was struggling with her dying marriage. Apparently old flames could still burn hot. The engagement only lasted four months. Then Cora had come back to him and they'd carried on as they had before. It seemed right to propose to her seven weeks ago. Neither one of them was young anymore, there was no reason to waste time.

So once she finished with her hair and makeup, she put the compact back into her purse and then took his hand. It helped to soothe him until the plane hit the tarmac. With Cora by his side, he was beginning to feel like maybe he could do this.

That ended when they went to get their luggage.

"I'm sorry sir, but it appears your bag was put on the wrong flight," the perky woman with shockingly red hair set in wire curls that exploded from her scalp in tangled cloud.

"Well I gathered that already, what I'd like to know is where it is?"

"I'm afraid I'm not sure. We'll send it to you when it is found."

He gave her a bitter look. "I'm quite confident in the skills of an agency that lost my luggage to return it to me with no trouble at all."

"Tristan, no need to be rude," Cora chided him softly.

The woman just continued to smile like an Barbie doll. "We do apologize for this inconvenience. If there is anything I can do to help please let me know."

"Fire your hair stylist."

Seeing her smile falter almost made the aggravation of his lost luggage worth it. At least the airport hadn't screwed up the plans for the driver Cora hired. Cora's four bags were all loaded up. Amazing how the airport could keep track of four Louis Vuiton suitcases but lose his one bag.

He was still seething when they reached Maine. The only upside was his bitterness had distracted him to the point that he almost missed the old green sign that read "Welcome to Storybrooke".

He was back.

The Mill's mansion had still been empty back when he had first left. Regina hadn't moved back into town until five years ago, but she'd managed to work her up to the Mayor's position in record time. Cora had warned him before that her and her daughter's relationship was a bit strained, another reason why she was eager to move back in order to patch things up. Which is why it wasn't a surprise that she wasn't at the airport to greet them.

Instead, Regina was inside the house, sitting on the couch in the living room, a glass of scotch in her hands. She did stand when they entered and attempted a warm smile. "Hello mother," she said.

"Regina, darling, how wonderful to see you again." Cora waltzed over to her daughter and pressed a kiss to each of her cheeks. "I'm so glad to be back in Storybrooke with you. You remember, Tristan?"

"Vividly," she replied, "Hello Mr. Gold. Welcome back to Storybrooke."

"Thank you," he said. She gave him one last stony look and then took up her scotch again. Cora had a lot of work put out for her.

Regina retreated back to her office at the town hall as soon as she could. Meanwhile Cora decided to unpack and fix up their room to her preferences. Since he had no luggage to unpack, that left him with the grim task of picking up what he needed to get him by until the airline could find his suitcase.

He went to his shop first, perhaps the safest place for him to be. Outwardly it hadn't changed much. The sign was still the same and many of the same products hung in the window. The bell still rang when he entered, though it was strange seeing Dove come out of the backroom. He had asked his assistant to take his place when he left. Dove had kept him well informed of what profits he was turning, when renters were late with their money, and to ask his opinion on if he should grant someone a loan.

"Mr. Gold," the tall, bald man greeted softly. For a large man, Dove was never the type to speak much or even loudly.

"Dove."

"Welcome back."

"Thank you. You've done an admirable job in my absence."

Dove only nodded. He rarely smiled, but perhaps that was one of the things that Gold liked about that man. He didn't need praise or platitude to fuel him, he just did his job. "Would you like to go over the books?"

"No, I'm sure everything is in order. I was wondering if you would drop by the house and pick up some things for me. The airlines lost my luggage."

"Of course." Dove didn't had to ask why Gold was reluctant to go himself.

"Thank you."

Dove showed him a few items that recently came in and discussed a few business ventures he might be interested in. Then Gold left to get the toiletries he needed that wouldn't be at his home: toothbrush, toothpaste, and other necessary items.

The people of Storybrooke were silent in his wake. He saw very few new faces. Most people that came to Storybrooke never left. Everyone had aged, gained more lines around their mouths and eyes and grey in their hair. The children had grown, some to nearly unrecognizable levels. A few new children had been born, but on the whole the town was the same. The same shops, the same people, the same routine for it's daily life.

He walked into the pharmacy/convenience store that most everyone used to pick up their odds and ends. There was a produce market on Plum Street, but there was no real grocery store in Storybrooke so the Dark Star Pharmacy furnished most of those needs. He did his best to ignore the stares and whispers as he went about getting what he needed.

The aisles seemed more cramped than they used to be, but that was probably due to his time spent in the large supermarkets in L.A. rather than the quaint stores of a small New England town. It shouldn't have surprised him when he actually bumped into someone when he was turning around with his toothpaste in hand.

It was a small woman who turned out to be his victim. While he dropped his toothpaste, she dropped her entire basket, sending it's contents falling across the aisle.

"I'm terribly sorry," he told her.

"It's all right. I wasn't looking where I—." She glanced up at him and the words died in her throat.

He knew the face well. The same clear blue eyes, high cheeks, all framed by chestnut curls spilled in waves around her shoulders. She blinked at him with obvious shock. He couldn't do much more either, but her name did slip free from his lips before he could stop himself. "Belle?"

She had hardly changed at all. She'd lost the remainder of her baby fat, leaving behind the fine curves and lines of a grown woman. She wasn't wearing jeans and t-shirts now. Instead she had a checkered pencil skirt and coral blouse the framed her elegantly.

"I didn't—," he said.

"I had no idea—." she said at the same time. Then they both lapsed into silence.

What was she doing here? She should have left Storybrooke years ago. He knew her father didn't have a lot of money, but she'd had the grades to go to college and take the world by storm. Had she come back? It seemed like a strange move on her part to return. She and Neal both had dreams of going to college and finding themselves outside of Storybrooke. She should have done all of that.

Belle had given up on talking to him. Instead she bent down to gather her items.

"Let me help," he told her.

"That—that's not necessary."

"Please," he said and went to get a box of cereal that had skittered across the aisle from her. He lifted up and read the box. "Cocoa Marshmallow Mateys?" he read with one brown raised. There was even a goofy pirate on the cover with a parrot and a hook for a hand.

"Oh, that's," she stopped and swallowed, "That's not mine. It's…it's my son's."

He couldn't have hidden his surprise even if he had tried. "Your son?"

Belle nodded and then took the cereal back from his limp hand. "He likes chocolate."

"Makes sense." Now that he looked at it, he could see a number of items in her basket for a growing boy: pudding packs, popsicles, even bandages with dinosaurs on them. She had even been reaching for the children's toothpaste, vanilla flavored.

"What's his name?"

"Liam," she said.

"How old is he?"

She never answered his question. Just then a breezy voice called out, "There you are!" and then he smelled Cora's Chanel perfume before she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I've been looking all over for you, darling. I went by your shop, but your man said you went into town."

Belle took a step back, still holding the box of toothpaste in her hand. Cora fixed her with large smile. "Hello. I don't we've believe we've met.

"No, you haven't," he said, "Cora, this is Belle. She moved here after you left."

"You're Cora Mills," Belle said.

"That's right. I'm Tristan's fiancée and Regina's mother." Cora let out a light laugh. "I forgot how quickly word travels here."

"No, It's just…someone I once knew told me about you once."

"Oh, well it's nice to be remembered." She still smiled at her. "How do you know Tristan?"

"From a long time ago," he answered for her.

"Yes," Belle agreed, "I was just getting a few things for my son.

"Oh," Cora said, "Is your husband around? I'm sure we'd love to meet him."

"No," she said, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear, "I'm not married."

Her answer left him stunned again, but Cora gave her a sheepish grin. "Oh dear, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume…"

"No, it's quite all right. I should be going anyways." Belle gave him one last look. "It was nice to see you again." He watched her scurry off towards the front of the store, presumably to check out and leave.

"She's lovely," Cora said, "How do you know her?"

"From a long time ago."

"Yes, but there must be some reason behind it," she replied, "Did she work for you?"

"No." He didn't want to talk about Belle or how he knew her or what their relationship had been. It tread to close to why he had left and why he hadn't wanted to come back.

"She seems a little young for you, how else could you have known her."

He shut his eyes and let out a long breath. "She was Neal's friend."

"Oh," Cora said softly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"It's all right."

"Were the two of you close? Did you know her well before?"

He wondered over that for a second. Memories of when he was happy, when his son was alive, when Belle was a sweet little bookworm who loved nothing more than to explore his shop or press books into Neal's reluctant hands. There were other memories too, of a sin he'd rather soon forget.

"No," he lied smoothly, "No I barely knew her."

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><p>Belle almost forgot her change when she made her purchases. Dr. Clark had to remind her to take her fifty-seven cents before she bolted out of the store. The logical place for her to go next would be home, but her shoes took her across the street to Granny's Diner instead. Right now it was between the lunch and the dinner rush, so only a few people were in the diner. Ruby was coming out of the kitchen with a fresh pot of coffee.<p>

"Hey, Belle. Can I get you a cup?"

She shook her head. "He's back."

"Who?" Ruby asked, pouring coffee into Marco's mug.

"_Him_," Belle said.

"Who him?"

Belle sighed and whispered, "Tristan Gold."

"Thirst and mold?" Ruby frowned at her like she had suddenly turned green.

"Gold," Belle finally hissed loud enough for everyone to hear. "Tristan Gold!"

Ruby's dark eyes immediately widened. "Oh my God." She set the pot of coffee down on the counter and grabbed Belle's arm. "Come on."

"Hey!" Leroy called after her, "I wanted more coffee!"

"Pour it yourself!" she yelled back. She dragged Belle through the kitchen and into the dry storage closet. Shelves of flour, rice, sugar, beans, coffee and other products surrounded them, all lit by the light of one dull yellow bulb. "Gold?" Ruby said, "Gold is back?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"I ran into him at the pharmacy."

"Oh my God!" Ruby looked at the closed door and then whispered. "Did you tell him about Liam?"

"Well he saw the pirate cereal he likes," Belle said.

"So he knows."

"He knows I have a son."

"And that's it?"

"Yeah," Belle said, "because then his fiancée showed up."

"What! He's getting married! To who?"

"Cora Mills," she told her, "The new mayor's mother."

"Well," Ruby said with a slight bite to her tone, "Won't they be the power couple of this town." She let that fester for a minute, but the silence softened. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Belle said in what hoped was a convincing voice. Ruby's expression that followed told her it wasn't.

"Really?"

"Its been seven years, Ruby, Gold getting engaged isn't that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things."

"I guess bigger things have happened," Ruby admitted though her eyes still showed some concern. "How long is he back?"

"I don't know. I got out of there as soon as I could."

"So you didn't tell him?" Belle shook her head. "Are you going to?"

"I don't know. I'm not even sure how long he's here. Maybe him and his fiancée are just here to visit Regina."

"And if they're not?"

Belle froze at her words. What would she do then? Seven years! He'd been gone for seven years, why did he have to come back now? "I don't know," she admitted softly.

"Belle, he's not stupid. I may not have known the guy as well as you did, but I remember that much pretty clear. If he stays…"

"I can't focus on that right now," Belle said, "I've got to get home."

"Belle…" Ruby said her name, drawing it out into two syllables.

"It's just…it's too much…" she said, "Seeing him again…I can't think about what might happen or I'll go insane. I just really need to be with Liam right now."

"Okay, call me later."

"I will."

Belle took the long way home, avoiding the pharmacy and Mr. Gold's pawnshop in case he happened to be around. Storybrooke was a small town, but it was still a long walk to the east end of town, just two blocks away from the docks. Her tiny apartment was sandwiched between a fish and bait shop and boating parts store. There was always the pungent aroma of fish in the air, even worse in the summer time. Across the street was a bar where a lot of the sailors and dockhands would hang out in their spare time. Ruby had loved to come there when they were high school to flirt with the sailors, but these guys weren't young Navy recruits, more like greasy fishermen and barge workers.

Belle unlocked her door and smiled when she saw Granny sitting on the sofa. "Hey."

"Mommy!" Liam called out when he saw her. He was sitting on the floor playing with his toy cars, but he abandoned them immediately to run and give his mother a hug. Belle dropped her bags onto the ground to wrap her arms around him.

"Were you good for Granny today?" she asked him.

"He was very good," Granny answered for him.

_Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles _was still on, but Liam appeared to be in no rush to return. Belle smoothed back his brown hair and kissed his forehead. "That deserves a treat. How about we go for ice cream after dinner?"

"Yeah!" Liam cried, "With the chocolate cones?"

"Yes."

"Yeah!"

Belle smiled and gave him one last squeeze before letting him go. "You watch TV. I'll put the groceries away and then we can fix dinner."

"Okay."

Liam went back to his toys, making vrooming sounds and beeps as he rolled his cars around on the carpet, up the sofa, and on the surface of the scuffed coffee table. She wished she could give him more than just two for a dollar cars, but he never complained.

"Let me help you," Granny said as she followed her into the kitchen.

"That's okay, it's not much," Belle told her, but the older woman showed no sign of stopping.

"Ruby called," she said in a hushed voice, "Are you all right?"

Belle sighed and set the bags on the counter. "I'm okay, honestly."

"What about him? How did he look?"

That was a complicated answer. His brown hair had gotten a few more streaks of grey, but that only helped to make him look more distinguished, especially since it was still long. His eyes had more lines in the corners and they didn't have the same spark they used to have, before tragedy struck. On a whole though, he had aged but gracefully, like fine wine, the years had given him more character rather than robbing him of his attraction.

"He looked the same," Belle said. He was still Tristan Gold, the same man who left Storybrooke seven years ago. It was she who had changed.

"Did you two talk much?"

"No," Belle said.

"Well, it's probably for the best," Granny said.

"Yes," Belle agreed. It had been so long, so much had changed, there was no point in even trying to reopen that door. Best to leave it locked, bolted, and boarded up.

"Do you think he'll be in town long?"

"I hope not," Belle said. The longer Tristan Gold remained in Storybrooke, the more likely her secrets would come out. Too much was at stake now. Seven years ago one tragedy had diverted her life onto a completely different path. If the truth came out, she wasn't sure what would be the result but she was certain it wouldn't end well for her.

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><p><em>Seven Years Ago<em>

Despite the fact that it was January, Storybrooke was seeing a fairly mild winter. It was still in the mid 40's, but the sky was clear and December's snow had already melted away. Belle kept the little bag under her arm as she stopped in front of the large salmon colored house on Birch Lane. She rang the doorbell and waited on the front porch. It was still early in the evening so the porch light wasn't on yet. The gentle tap of a cane made her smile just before the door opened.

"Belle," Mr. Gold said when he saw her.

"Hi, Mr. Gold."

"I thought I told you to call me Tristan," he said.

"You still call me Miss French when others are around," she pointed out.

"Do I? Well I try to remember that from now on." He pushed the door open further. "Come in, Neal is still getting ready. I wasn't aware that I'd raised a dandy."

Belle giggled. "I can't imagine where he got that from."

Gold narrowed his dark eyes at her. "Miss French, are you accusing me of being vain?"

Belle looked him up and down, taking in his salon cut hair, the crisp cranberry colored shirt, his perfectly knotted navy blue tie, the immaculate crease in his trousers, and she knew if she found his jacket there would be kerchief in the pocket that would match his shirt and tie. "Not at all, clearly you're Mr. Casual."

"Taking pride in ones appearance is not being vain, it is merely promoting an image of self respect."

"Yes and you can do that in jeans, too," Belle said. She'd always wondered how he would look in a pair of worn Levi's. She suspected she'd get a terrific view from behind if he did.

He wrinkled his nose at the idea. "I don't think I'm young enough to pull of such attire."

"You're not old," she said.

"Thank you, Belle, but I know your generation feels anyone over the age of thirty is prehistoric."

"That's not true!" she insisted.

"You're too kind," he said with a smile. "Since Neal might be a while, would you like to sit? I can get you a soda if you like?"

"I'm fine. I know someone's bringing a cooler to the party anyways." But she did take a seat on the sofa and put her jacket in her lap. She hadn't meant to wear the dark blue sweater that brought out her eyes for him, but she still smiled when he eyed it with approval.

"I imagine there will be a keg as well," he added, "Miss Lucas does encourage juvenile delinquency."

Belle laughed. "She's not like that, Tristan, she just wants to have fun. If it helps, I promise not to drink."

"I wasn't worried about you, my dear, Neal on the other hand…"

"I'll make sure he stays sober," she promised.

"I appreciate that." He looked to the little gift bag she had on the floor. "A present for the birthday girl?"

"Oh, yes." She picked up the back and took it's contents out of the tissue paper for him to see. She opened the box and pulled it out. "It's a charm bracelet, Marco helped me make it."

He let out an intrigued "hm" and left his chair to sit next to her on the couch so he could get a better look. "Clearly the red leather bracelet is because of her favorite color," he said, "What's with the moon charm?"

"Oh, because she and I would sneak out at night when I first came into town and go up to Pine Hill and stargaze."

He nodded. "The cherries?"

"Her favorite flavor of anything."

"And the dog is because she loves dogs?"

"It's a wolf," Belle told him, "it's her spirit animal."

"Hmph," he said to that, "I wonder what my spirit animal would be. Probably a snail."

Belle laughed as she put the bracelet back in the box. It really was a shame no one else in town could see this side of him. It was always there, sometimes he hid it beneath an armor of cynicism and ice, but one could find the warmth and kindness if they looked hard enough. But he was full of self deprecating humor and wit with those he truly cared about.

The stomping on the stairs alerted them that Neal was finally finished primping. He came tromping down the staircase dressed in a brown leather jacket with his hair perfectly combed and gelled into a tousled look. Belle grinned when she saw him, sneaking a glance at Gold for a second. Neal would deny it until his last breath how much like his father he was. While his father worked to make sure his appearance was all elegance and style, Neal worked just as hard to create a look of casual indifference. He was a bit taller than his father and his hair was darker, but they had the same brown eyes and chiseled features, though Gold would often insist his son was far better looking than him, she knew Neal hadn't inherited his finer aspects from his absent mother.

"Hey Belle. When did you get here?"

"Nearly ten minutes ago," Gold answered for her, "Didn't I teach you to never keep a lady waiting?"

"It's okay, Mr. Gold," Belle said, "I really didn't mind. You were great company."

"Yes," Neal said with a smirk, "I'm sure you enjoyed his company immensely, Belle."

Her eyes widened and then she made a point to give him a solid kick to ankle. He let out a yelp, but his smirk never left his face. "We really should go," Belle said.

"Yep, Ruby will kill us if we're late," Neal agreed.

Gold nodded. "Be sure to bring Belle home safe and be back by midnight."

Neal let out a sigh. "Dad, I'll be eighteen in a few weeks, don't you think I'm too old for a curfew?"

"We'll discuss that when you're eighteen."

Neal narrowed his eyes at him. "That mean's no, doesn't it?"

Gold grinned. "Well, it appears that school is teaching you something."

Belle couldn't help but laugh at that which earned her a glare from Neal. "Yeah, you would take his side, traitor."

She elbowed him in the ribs this time. "We better keep going," she said and pulled Neal's jacket sleeve. "I'm going to kill you," she whispered to him through gritted teeth.

"You're no fun, mom," he replied with a wink. Neal looked back and waved at his dad. "Bye, dad."

"No drinking and make sure none of those boys get to rowdy," Gold reminded him.

"But that's how Ruby likes them," he said. But his father was not amused. "Don't worry, Belle can handle herself. Besides, Keith and his friends aren't invited to this party."

"Keep it that way." He gave Belle a nod before she left. She smiled back at him. Neal may have been the one who was going with her, but she knew his dad was always looking out for her. She didn't bother to pretend the way his smile back at her made her stomach do somersaults.

When she looked back at Neal, he rolled his eyes at her. "Really?"

"Just go." She shoved him from behind, pushing him out the front door. Neal may tease her, but at least he never told her she was foolish to have these feelings. She did that enough on her own. Still, she couldn't shake them and sometimes, usually when she was alone with Tristand, she couldn't help but wonder if maybe there was a chance. Maybe somewhere down the road, after she had gone to college and Neal had gone off on his grand adventure, maybe there would be something. She was seventeen and life was just full of those possibilities.

* * *

><p>AN: So what do you think so far? Gold is a bit more woobie in this fic than any of my others which is really different for me. I hope you all enjoy it.

Next Chapter: Gold meets Liam and the town is a buzz with the rumors upon Gold's return.


	3. Chapter 2: Bound by the Secrets We Share

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Once Upon a Time

A/N: So sorry for the long wait. Life got in the way, mainly a week long trip to Disney World. On the plus side, I finally got my Beast plush to go with my Belle. ;-D I hope you all like this chapter. Some more tiptoeing around each other and the town is more than willing to chat about Gold's return. Plus, Cora begins to get suspicious.

**Anonymous Reviews:**

**belle:** My eager fan, I'm so glad you are enjoying my stories and want me to update them all. Sadly, I can only do one at a time.

**prttykitty7728:** LOL, yep expect a lot of angst in this fic, but I'm really excited for it and I think you'll like what I have in store for it.

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><p>Chapter 2: Bound By the Secrets We Share<p>

Regina's first town meeting was scheduled on the Friday. Cora was eager to attend and since he was the primary businessman of the town, Gold knew he had a responsibility to go as well. He'd recognized that seven years ago, but now it was strange walking into that room filled with so many residents of the town. Now he understood how a goldfish felt trapped in a glass prison with everyone watching him.

He and Cora both took their seats. For once, he would have preferred being in the back, but Cora was insistent on being front and center. It was interesting too look around the place and see what had changed and what hadn't. The room was still the same and, for the most part, the people too. A few of the old timers had retired but their children ran their businesses now and stood in their stead. Seven years had gone by but Storybrooke was still Storybrooke. It didn't seem right some how.

More than one person looked in their direction and then whispered to the person next to them. He knew every newcomer into town was subject to gossip, but really, how exciting could his return actually be?

Regina walked in carrying two folders and called the town meeting into order. He admired her straightforward attitude. Mayor Blanchard had preferred a more laid back approach to these meetings, trying to be everyone's friend. It had made him popular with the town, but business was never the order of the day. Regina seemed to know her first priority was to take care of the town before making friends.

She opened the town meeting by discussing new bylaws that would help promote tourism in the town. Most of Storybrooke's revenue came from fishing. Regina wanted to encourage more camp grounds and park sites to attract more tourists to the area. More tourists equaled more money, but a far more crowded town. Still, Gold like Regina's idea. Plus the citizens of Storybrooke would get some enjoyment out of it as well.

Most of Regina's measures passed with little opposition. Gold couldn't help but think how proud Cora must be to see her daughter doing so well on her first real day as mayor. He was envious of that.

Then Regina opened the floor for discussion if anyone had any problems or suggestions for the town. A few people stood up. Ms. Ginger talked about how there needed to be a sound law in the town so kids couldn't crank their music up too loud (most tittered at her suggestion). Someone said there were potholes tearing up their tires on Orchard Road. Gold only half listened as they prattled on about mundane problems.

"Next on our list is Miss French to discuss the town library."

Gold's head snapped up so fast he felt the vertebrae crack. His eyes found Belle three rows back on the opposite side of the room. She stood up and walked forward, carrying a small stack of papers. Her high heels clicked on the floor as she went. The library? She worked there now? Before he'd left the town library had been run by the aging Ms. Franklin who could hardly find north with a compass let alone find the Biography section. The pay wasn't much, surely Belle deserved a better job than that, no matter how much she loved books.

It was hard to find the teenager he once knew in the woman who now stood at the front of the room. The Belle he knew had been terrified of giving a speech about the cause and effects of the Civil War because she would have to stand in front of twenty of her classmates. Now the whole town was watching her and yet she didn't bat an eye. The same amount of years was between them as they had when she was seventeen, but somehow he felt like he had changed little since leaving Storybrooke while she had grown into this confident woman before him.

"Thank you Mayor Mills," she said calmly when she began her speech, "I'm sure you know the library has been left on its own for quite some time. The only new inventory added in the past ten years has been from donations by local citizens. I was hoping to ask you to consider an increase to the library's funding so the library can receive a proper supply of books as well as update the system. We still rely on library cards and a card system to look up books. I would like to include a computer system to make it easier for everyone to find the books they need. This can not only help the locals enjoy their books, but also help the local students obtain better research and learning tools for their school projects."

She made a good presentation and it was always a brilliant idea to appeal to the many parents in town who only wanted what was best for their children. It would have been an interesting bit of business for him even if it wasn't Belle who was the librarian. Gold owned the building, a renovation could increase the value of the property thus give him more income. It was a double edged sword. Increasing the budget and renovating the library would likely lead to more interest in the residents and better productivity; however, the lease would also go up. He doubted Regina would be keen on paying him more money as it was.

Regina took the proposal, skimming it for a few minutes. "You have done your research, Miss French," she said.

"Thank you."

"Have you considered less expensive methods of gaining funds, such as a book drive?"

"Unfortunately, a book drive wouldn't bring the diversity we need. The shelves are already overflowing with Danielle Steel and Dr. Phil," Belle said, earning a few laughs from the crowd. "We need more non-fiction books as well as updated encyclopedias and resource materials. Many of our fiction books are also in poor state and need replacing."

Regina nodded, but it seemed more out of courtesy than actual interest. "You keep mentioning the students, how they can use the library for research. Why can't they just use the internet? I would imagine most teenagers would rather go to their computers than the library for school projects."

"The internet is not a hundred percent reliable," Belle told her, "Books are still considered more accurate with material and contain more primary sources."

"And you believe a restoration would induce more people to leave their televisions and computers to read a few books?"

"I would also like to implement more programs besides Storytime on Saturdays for the children," Belle told her, "We can bring in authors for books signings which could encourage more revenue and tourism like you have been suggesting."

Regina nodded again, never a good sign. "All valid points and you have certainly thought this through. However, I have to focus on the more immediate issues of the town such as the repaving of the streets, the installation of a new playground for the children in this town, and renovating the docks to encourage more industry. I'm sorry but the library is just going to have to wait its turn."

She finalized her decision with three strokes of her gavel. To her credit, Belle didn't hang her head in defeat or display a temper. She calmly gathered her papers back into the binder and returned to her seat. Still, there was more a more rigid stance to her shoulders that suggested she was not pleased with the new mayor.

The businessman in Gold agreed with Regina's decision, there were more profits to be had in other parts of the town than refurbishing the free library. But his other side, the one he used to be at home with his son and Belle helping them with their economics homework, that side felt Regina was too harsh. He wanted to comfort her, but seven years and one large secret stood between them, reminding him that those days were long gone. So when the town meeting was adjourned he forced himself not to look in her direction. It was better to just forget the man he used to be anyways. There really was no going back, not when that part of him was buried in the local cemetery.

* * *

><p>Ruby had never been a babysitter as a teenager. Belle used to occasionally watch the local kids for a few bucks, but Ruby had never been the type a parent would normally trust with their snot-nosed little angel. But Belle's own kid was different. Not only had Ruby been there since the moment he was born, but Liam was the sweetest kid in the whole world. He was hardly any trouble at all.<p>

Granny had left Ruby in charge of the diner while attending the town meeting so she'd stuck Liam in a booth with a coloring book, some crayons, and plate of fries if he got hungry. Thankfully it wasn't busy due to the meeting so it was easy keeping an eye on him while she worked.

Liam really was a good boy, not that he couldn't get into trouble when he wanted to, but he never really went looking for it. Despite the giant mess his original existence has been back when Belle first showed her the pregnancy test, Ruby was proud of her best friend for being such a great mom and Liam for being a normal kid. Still, with the recent events of this town she was waiting for the hurricane to hit at any moment.

Slowly the people at the meeting trickled out and went about their day. Several went to the dinner for a late supper and to discuss the meeting away from prying eyes. Ruby smiled when she saw Belle enter, but it faded when the slump of her friend's shoulders became apparent. "Uh oh," she said, "I take it things didn't go so well."

"You can say that again."

Liam looked up from his coloring and gave her a big smile. "Mommy! You're back!"

Belle smiled back, all of her troubles lifting away in an instant as she slid into the booth and wrapped her son in a hug. "Yes, sweetie. Have you been coloring?"

"Uh huh. Granny got me a coloring book of monsters."

"That's wonderful." She stared at the mass of blue and red scribbles like it was a Picasso hanging in the Louvre. "It's beautiful. We'll put it on the fridge at home or would you rather give it to Granny to say thank you for the book?"

"Granny," Liam said, "She can put it on her fridge."

"The cooks will love that," Ruby said, laughing at the picture in her head. The worst part was Granny would do it. She loved the kid as if he was her own grandson. Well, considering the kids real grandparents he probably was lucky to have a surrogate granny.

"How about dinner?" Ruby asked.

"That's okay, we'll eat at home," Belle said.

"I want chicken nuggets, mommy," Liam said, "And it's free ice cream day."

It was always free ice cream day for Liam, but he didn't know that. But Ruby knew the cheap frozen nuggets Belle sometimes popped in the oven for Liam were not the kind of nuggets he was wanting. "All right," she said, "Chicken nuggets for him and a burger for me. But I'm paying this time."

"Okay," Ruby said. She knew Granny would somehow make sure Belle only paid for a tip, and that was only because Belle never caved to a completely free meal. She was family now and family always got a home cooked meal from Granny.

"Mommy is going to the bathroom," Belle told Liam, "You keep coloring. I'm sure Ruby would like one of your drawings too."

"Okay!" Liam said.

"Thanks," Ruby told her while rolling her eyes. She'll have to add another mess of color to the ten thousands she already had at home.

She went to get their drinks, Belle and iced tea and Liam a chocolate milk with a curly straw. She was just placing the drinks on the table when the bell rang. She glanced up and froze. It was Gold.

What was he doing here? It wasn't rent day and this really wasn't his kind of scene. Yeah, she remembered back when she was teenager that occasionally he would come here with Neal for a burger, but she knew it had been Neal who had talked him into it. "Mr. Gold," she said, "This is a surprise. The rent's not due for two weeks."

"I'm not here for the rent," he said, "Tonight is the cook's day off. Cora said she'd placed an order."

"Okay, I'll check on it then." She went back to the kitchen to ask Tony if the Mill's order was finished. Apparently Cora had ordered the meatloaf so it would be a few more minutes. Perfect.

She came back into the diner just as she heard a slight crash. Liam was sitting in his booth, but his plastic cup of chocolate milk was on the floor. The brown liquid had splattered over Gold's shiny loafers. Even more perfect.

"Sorry, Mr. Gold, it will be out in a few minutes," Ruby said.

"I spilt my milk," Liam said glumly.

"It's okay, honey, I'll clean it up and get you some more." That is if Gold didn't kill them both.

She grabbed some rags and got on her knees to mop up the mess. "You're son, I take it," Gold growled when she stood up.

"What? No!" she said, "You think I have a kid?"

"If he's not yours then who left him unattended?"

Oh shit.

Belle's timing was impeccable as ever. She just had to come out of the bathroom then and stop right by the table. "Is everything okay?"

"I spilt my milk, mommy," Liam answered for them. Seeing the shock hit Gold's face would be a little amusing if Ruby wasn't completely on edge. She was waiting for it all to click, waiting for the giant fallout.

"He's _your_ son?" Gold questioned.

"Yes," Belle said calmly, "I went to the restroom for a minute. I'm sorry if he spilt milk on you. I can pay for the dry cleaning if you need me too."

Gold shook his head. "No, no it's fine I'm just…surprised. I thought, I mean he's not as…"

"Ruby," Tony called for the kitchen, "That order's ready."

Apparently there was a God and he had just saved them with meatloaf. Ruby pounced on the large brown paper bag and shoved it towards Mr. Gold. "Here you go, enjoy your meal."

She nearly forgot to take the cash he handed her to pay for the whole thing. "Thank you." He looked back at Belle. "Miss French," he nodded in goodbye.

"Mr. Gold," she said just as stiffly. Even after seven years, it was still weird to see how awkward they were. It used to be Belle would tease Gold about how he would go to school's fair in his three piece suits.

The bell chimed again and he was gone. Ruby let out a long sigh. "Okay, that was tense." She looked over at Belle, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Can you get Liam some more milk?"

The milk, right. She hurried back to a kitchen for a fresh cup and gave it to him. There orders were ready too so she brought those as well. She really wanted to talk to Belle about what just happened (or what really _didn't_ happen) but with Liam and the rest of the diner in earshot, she knew that conversation would just have to wait. Still, why hadn't Gold questioned it further? The bullet may have been dodged here, but it was still out there. The guy wasn't stupid, despite the evidence today to the contrary.

All Ruby knew as she grabbed the tray of Leroy's chowder soup and beer was that eventually that bullet was going to hit and the results wouldn't be pretty.

* * *

><p><em>Seven Years Ago<em>

Gold didn't want to do this. His duty was done, his son was laid into his grave, now why did he have to go and share a meal with everyone in town like a bit of food would somehow make this day better? But Belle had insisted that he make an appearance, that it would only make everyone worry if he didn't show. He doubted anyone would care if he went to the wake or not, but Belle forced him along.

Quite the crowd had gathered at Granny's for the wake. It was a sea of black suits and dresses. On the counter there was an array of casseroles, cakes, pies, salads, and trays of fried chicken and Granny's famous meatloaf. Well who knew a funeral was also a feast?

Belle fixed them both a plate but he ate nothing and she only picked at her food, meanwhile others scarfed it down like it was a food eating contest. Plenty came by to give him their condolences and share stories of their times with Neal. He just stared blankly at them, not saying a word. Stories, food and pity were not going to make him feel better.

Aside from himself, one other person in the room was also being fawned over. It had been eight years since he'd last seen his ex-wife, Milah. Neal had been ten when she'd moved from Boston to start living on her boyfriend's yacht. Postcards and the occasional international phone call had replaced the monthly visits she'd used to have with their son. When Neal got older, he would sometimes spend a week with her here and there. She had always preferred to be the adventuress mother, the one who was happy to send him presents from exotic places instead of actually visiting him. It had taken some digging to even find a working phone number to tell her that their son was gone.

She'd come to the funeral, but she'd brought her lover with her as well. At least she was staying at Granny's inn. Perhaps some people had expected them to come together in their shared grief, but they were delusional. Milah had left them, left their son when he was still a child. Now she returns only when he was gone. He would never forgive himself for failing to protect his son, but he would never forgive her for abandoning him when he was still alive.

Now she sat in a corner booth surrounded by _his_ town-mates who were handing her tissues and patting her hand. Killian Jones was at her side, munching on the food and giving her shoulders the occasional squeeze. It was the first time she'd been back to Storybrooke in over a decade and yet she was already accepted back into the fold. Meanwhile Gold sat at one table with only Belle for company.

"He was such a sweet little boy," Milah said as tears rolled down her cheeks, "I remember when he was three and he wanted me to sleep in his room because he knew 'mommies keep the monsters away'."

Yes. Meanwhile Gold remembered how she'd refused to sleep on the floor since Neal's racecar bed was too small for the both of them. Instead he and Neal had built a tent out of blankets in the living room while 'mommy' slept in the master bedroom.

"I used to send him postcards of all the places I went to and he'd ask me when he could come. He wanted to go on adventures to."

Funny how she never said when he could go.

"He was my special boy," Milah said while dabbing at her eyes. "Maybe if I had been here none of this would have happened. I should have demanded more visitation rights."

"Milah, you know it's not your fault," Killian said as she once more began to sob, "Just because some judge sided with your ex doesn't mean you're a bad mother."

It was getting too much to swallow. What about all the times she put off her visitation? All of the disappointed hopes of his young son whenever his mother said, "Not this time sweetie. Maybe next month."

"That doesn't matter," Milah said, "a boy needs his mother."

There were a lot of murmurs of agreement and sympathetic nods. Then when Milah burst out in another loud gust of tears, six people produced handkerchiefs. It was too much.

Gold leapt to his feet, the movement jarring his bad leg painfully but he didn't care. He strode out of the diner, no doubt leaving everyone questioning him while Milah lavished in her circle of attention. He didn't care. She could have the town and everyone with it.

"Mr. Gold! Wait!"

It was Belle. What was she doing? She should be in there with the comfort of her friends where she belonged, not following an old, childless divorcée out into the frigid March air. He didn't slow down, but she still managed to catch up and wound her arm with his.

"Let's go home," she said softly.

He didn't say anything, but he didn't have the heart to push her away. Right now, she was all he had left in the world that meant something to him, even if she was a reminder of his dead son. It was better to have one true mourner who cared, then a thousand other trying to fix the pain with food and tissues. Belle knew just the simple warmth of one person was enough.

* * *

><p>Cora wanted to explore the town since she'd been away for so long and she refused to go without Gold. She'd even planned for her Aramani dress to match his tie for the occasion. Perhaps it was a bit silly, but despite the fact that very little had changed in the town since Cora had left, she still wanted to see it.<p>

So he played her tour guide, letting her explore the three new shops that had sprung up in her absence. The only new store he found for himself was an ice cream shop, though this was not surprising since he'd set up the lease contract two years ago in L.A. Cora made a point with talking to everyone, chatting about Regina's success and their future wedding plans. He knew this was Cora's way to get to the know the town and pave the way for her daughter (and perhaps to gloat a little) but he would have much rather been at home or in his shop. He was hoping that this trip would wind down soon. There was a minor case he was considering taking and he wanted to get a good look at it.

"Sarah! Darling, how good to see you!" Cora called out in delight when Ms. Ginger came out of the clerk's office.

"Cora, I was hoping to run into you soon." They gave each other a kiss on each cheek as if they were meeting in Paris and not on Main Street. This was Cora though, as pretentious as it was, he knew she liked to show off her status quo. He couldn't exactly fault her for that since he'd been wearing three piece suits ever since he made his first million.

"Mr. Gold," Ms. Ginger said without a handshake or a kiss (thank God), "You're looking well."

"Thank you," he said coolly.

"It's so exciting having you both back in town," she said.

"Have things been so dreadfully dull here?" Cora asked.

Ms. Ginger "hmmed" and her eyes sparkled with new delight. "I wouldn't say dull. Certainly you've heard about that school teacher, Mary Margaret Blanchard."

"No, I haven't."

"Well, apparently she has been having an affair with David Nolan, he runs the animal shelter now."

Now this was news to Gold. "I thought he married Midas's daughter," he said. The sickeningly sweet couple had wed just out of high school, two years before Neal died.

"Oh yes, Kathryn," Ms. Ginger said, "The poor woman actually marched over to the school and slapped Mary Margaret across the face."

"No!" Cora crowed with delight. Gold started scanning the streets around them for something of interest. Oh he didn't mind gossip all that much, but secret affairs were really none of his business unless he could use that information somehow. Besides, was it really all that surprising that two teenagers who got married out of high school would split? Honestly, it was more surprising that their marriage lasted as long as it did.

"Oh yes. Now she and Mr. Nolan are living together."

"And Kathryn?"

"Oh she says she's forgiven them. She's seeing that gym teacher now." Ms. Ginger continued to grin. "Still, it was the talk of the town for weeks. It was almost as notorious as what happened with the florist's daughter."

Gold snapped his attention away from the two boys playing basketball in the alley and back to the president of the Storybrooke Gossip Society. "Belle? What are you talking about?"

Ms. Ginger stared at him with a quizzical look behind her round glasses. "I thought you knew."

"Knew what?"

"It was quite the story," she said, "Even though it happened after you left, I still thought your might have known. She got pregnant in high school."

It wasn't shocking news for him. He'd seen her boy, he knew that Belle must had had him when she was still in her teens. What did strike him was what she must have endured. It hadn't occurred to him that she was stuck in a town full of judgmental prejudices and gossips. It couldn't have been easy being a single teen mother.

Anger coursed through him, at the Ms. Ginger, the town, even Moe French. Her father should have protected her. But he could still remember all the times Belle came over to their house for dinner or just to get away from her father's drunkenness and reckless gambling. Poor girl.

"I must say, I'm still surprised you had no idea," Ms. Ginger said, "After all, she and Neal were so close."

Cora lifted one dark brow. "Were they?"

"Oh yes," Ms. Ginger continued, "Why Belle practically lived with them it seemed."

"I wouldn't say that," he told her. The look Cora was giving him could have frozen fire.

"How interesting," she said, never taking her eyes off of him, "It was lovely catching up with you again, Sarah. We'll have to have lunch together soon."

"That would be wonderful."

"Now we really must be going," Cora told her, "Tristan and I have an important matter to see to."

"Of course. We'll talk later," Ms. Ginger said.

"Of course."

Cora kept a vice grip on his arm as they strolled away. Appearances mattered in a small town like this. Once Ms. Ginger was out of sight she stopped him, her dark eyes pinning him on the spot. "You lied to me," she stated.

"It wasn't a lie."

"You said you barely knew her."

"And I didn't," he insisted.

"You barely knew a girl you let stay at your own house?"

"She was Neal's friend," Gold said, his voice unable to keep from cracking over his son's name, "I did know her, but we weren't close. She was seventeen, Cora, we didn't exactly run in the same circles."

Cora nodded, the fire in her eyes receding just a bit. "She was close to Neal," she said, "Were they in a relationship?"

"I don't know," he said truthfully, "I suspected, but Neal never told me."

Cora let out a small laugh. "I remember when Regina had a crush on her riding instructor. She never said a word, I had to investigate it on my own." She smiled at him softly and then stroked his face. "I'm sorry, Tristan, I know I can be a bit jealous at times. We were apart for so long, I keep expecting to find your former lovers at every turn."

"I'm hardly the Lothario you seem to think I am," he told her.

"I know," she admitted, giving him a sheepish look, "Still, you don't have an secret rendezvous from before, do you? I won't be angry, I just want to know so that way I can put it all behind me."

He hoped she didn't notice his flinch. His gaze flickered in the direction of the library, sitting just a head of them. If he had seen her then he might have confessed all. Thankfully, she made no appearance. So he put on his most disarming smile and shook his head at Cora. "No, there is nothing to tell."

* * *

><p>The library had always been one of Belle's favorite places in Storybrooke. Whenever things were bad or she felt down about herself, she could always go to this place and find a book that would cheer her up. Elizabeth Bennett, Jane Eyre, Edmond Dantes, and Tom Sawyer had all been her dear friends whenever she needed to find an escape. She had been thrilled when the vacancy at the library had opened. Getting the job had been easy, partly because of her ideas and love for the place, but mostly because she was the only one that applied.<p>

The hours were good, the money wasn't as much as she'd hoped, but she was getting by. At least she was able to be home for dinner with Liam almost every night. It wasn't hard work at the library, but still she was disappointed that the new mayor hadn't taken her claims seriously. Well, she wasn't giving up yet. She already had a meeting set up tomorrow evening with Mayor Mills to once again discuss her plans for the library.

Mrs. Lowell came by to find a new romance novel, careful to take one of the paper bags Belle offered for the townspeople to put books inside. It wouldn't do for the wife of the town's treasurer to be seen with a bodice ripper. It was funny to know some of the secrets in this town. Some were harmless such as Dr. Hopper who had a fascination with entomology, others like the Billy the mechanic had a soft spot for Nicholas Sparks, meanwhile Mother Superior would often sneak in _Fifty Shades of Grey_ between two religious texts. But they all knew their secrets were safe with Belle. What happened in the library, stayed in the library.

At two the kindergarten class would show up for story hour so Belle was arranging everything. She brought out the beanbag chairs and oversized pillows for the kids to lounge on. She also cleaned up the table and started a pot of coffee for the adults. The teachers would bring cookies and juice for the kids to snack on.

She brought a selection of books for the teachers to choose from for the story hour. She always liked to let the kids make the final selection though. Belle also took the jar of lollipops behind the counter so the kids could have another treat before they left. She was stacking up Styrofoam cups when the bell above the door rang to announce a visitor. It wasn't the gaggle of five year olds she was expecting.

Cora Mills was wearing a smart blue dress with a burgundy jacket and matching pumps. Belle guessed the whole outfit cost twice than her paycheck, maybe even triple. On her left hand was a sparkling diamond ring, the largest Belle had ever seen. She refused to look at it again.

"Hello, Mrs. Mills," she greeted her, "Can I help you with anything?"

"Yes, I believe you can."

"Well, I have a table over here that has my personal recommendations." She gestured to a little table at the front that was stacked high with books of multiple genres.

"I'm not here for a book," Cora told her.

"Oh," Belle blinked at her, "then how can I help you?"

"For starters, you can tell me about your former association with Tristan Gold."

Belle felt the blood drain from her face. Oh God, did she know? Why would he tell her that? Had he figured it out? Was that why she was here? Belle could feel her heart hammering against her ribs, her fingers tingling. "Wha—what do you mean?"

"I'm just trying to figure out how well you knew Tristan before," Cora said, "He told me you were friends with Neal."

"Yes," Belle said, "Yes I was."

"And you were friends with Tristan?"

"I suppose," she said, frowning a bit. What game was she playing with her? Well, she knew a thing or two about Cora.

"He told me before that he barely knew you," Cora said, "yet I hear you spent a lot of time at his home."

"Neal and I were friends, that's hardly surprising."

"Yet it seems you two can barely stand to be in the same room together," Cora said, "Nor can I take two steps in this town without hearing your names together."

"I hardly doubt that's true," Belle said. There was gossip to be sure, but it was doubtful anyone would say anything to Cora's face. Besides, they didn't know the whole truth.

"The other day at the pharmacy, you and Tristan could hardly look at each other," Cora said, "Why is that? Considering you two knew each other before, why would you not be glad to see one another again after so long?"

She was fishing, but she was also smart. Belle couldn't let her see anything, not how she felt. She forced her fear and doubt down, down, down, and could only hope it would be enough. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Mr. Gold and I shared a loss," she told Cora, "we both cared for Neal a great deal. Seeing each other again, well it isn't easy."

"It's been seven years," Cora said, "Surely you have recovered from your loss. I mean, obviously you found someone else."

Belle blinked at her again. "I—what?"

"From what I hear, you moved on rather quickly once Neal was in the ground."

Belle felt her heart race again, but this time it wasn't fueled by fear. Her eyes narrowed at Cora and she stood to her full height, even if it wouldn't match the woman before her. "Neal told me about you once," Belle said, "So far, I would say he was accurate."

Cora quirked one dark brow. "Well, his opinion hardly matters now, does it?"

"You have a very cavalier attitude about Neal considering he is your fiancé's late son," Belle stated, not even bothering to hide her disdain.

"And aren't you the little hypocrite," Cora replied. Her dark eyes looked almost black but they burned in Belle's direction. "I don't care that you let some teenage boy paw at you as soon as your boyfriend was dead. I don't know what happened between you and Tristan, but stay out of my way. He is mine now."

"Funny, but I thought owning someone was illegal in this country," Belle said.

"Don't toy with me, darling, you have no idea what I could do to you."

Belle just shook her head at her. "You are wasting your time here. I'm not trying to take _Tristan_ from you," she hissed out his name, "and my past is my business. Now I think we are done here."

She stalked past Cora and yanked the door open. "Please leave."

Cora's high heels clicked against the wood floors as she made her way to the exit. She stopped in front of Belle, her eyes flickering from her toes to and then back to her face. "You have no idea who you're dealing with," Cora said.

"Neither do you," Belle told her and then shut the door behind her.

* * *

><p><em>Eight Years Ago<em>

"Who freaking cares about the Industrial Revolution?" Neal griped for the fifth time. Belle rolled her eyes and tried to turn her attention back to her history textbook. They had a killer test tomorrow and they were supposed to be studying, though Neal's version consisted of complaining every ten minutes or so.

"I mean, why do we have to learn about the cotton gin? I'm not a farmer. I won't be using one of those. And the printing press? Hello, we have computers now. And I don't think I'll be trading my cellphone for a telegraph."

"Neal, it's not about knowing them so we could use them," Belle told him without glancing up from her page, "It's knowing the building blocks for how all of our technology today started."

"Who cares? History is stupid. It doesn't teach us anything."

"I wouldn't say that."

Belle gasped, finally looking up from her book to see Mr. Gold standing in the door way. She knew her cheeks were blooming just because he happened to look at her. Still, she couldn't look away. He'd taken off his jacket and his tie was loosened. This was about as casual as she'd ever seen him and still he managed to make himself look like he belonged at a gentleman's club.

"History is meant to teach us the mistakes of the past so we don't make them in the future," Gold said.

"So if I didn't learn about Henry VIII I might chop of my wife's head?" Neal quipped. Belle couldn't resist giggling.

"The stock market crash," Gold pointed out, "We learned a lot from that, we learned how to avoid suck a catastrophe again. History teaches us how to shape our future, it also teaches us who built our future."

"Yeah, but does it have to be so boring?"

Belle rolled her eyes again. "It can't all be wars and mass destruction, Neal."

"World War II is way more interesting than learning about Thomas Edison."

"Remember that the next time you flip your light switch," Belle replied.

Mr. Gold let out a chuckle and she blushed again. "Belle, are you staying for dinner?"

"Um…" it was so hard to think when he looked at her like that, she always got lost in those dark brown eyes with the flecks of amber. "I…I don't want to be in the way."

"You never could me, dear," he said, "We have more than enough for three. I have to cook for six because Neal eats like a bear in the spring." She giggled again but Neal only glared at them both.

"Okay," she said. It wasn't like her father would miss her anyways.

"Wonderful," he said warmly. Her stomach did a little flip when he smiled at her. "I'll leave you two to your studying."

"Do you have that chart about the inventions?" Neal asked her once his father had left, "I can't find mine."

Belle didn't listen to him. She was watching as his father walked towards his study. He did have a limp and cane, but somehow he managed to walk gracefully despite it all. Certainly more than she who tripped over every crack in the sidewalk.

"Hello? Earth to Belle? Belle?"

"Oh," she shook her head and then looked back at her book, "Sorry, what was it Neal?"

"The chart about the inventions? Do you have it?"

"Yeah." She fumbled around in her folder before pulling out one sheet of paper. "Here you go."

"Thanks." He studied the chart for a bit, his forehead crinkling in concentration just like his father did.

She tried to focus back on her history text, but her eyes kept glancing towards the study. Was he doing business in there? How lonely it must be for him to closet himself off. Maybe next time she could ask him to join them. Of course that would be stupid since she blushed every time he looked at her.

She needed to get him out of her system, then she could get back to her studying. An innocent question or two wouldn't hurt and then she'd be fine.

"Hey Neal?"

"Yeah?" he asked her.

"Why does your dad wear suits all the time?"

"I don't know," Neal said with a shrug, "He just does."

"He doesn't have any casual clothes?"

"I think he might have a pair of jeans in his closet somewhere," Neal said, "He used to dress down a bit when I was younger, but Cora got him to wear the suits all the time and he never stopped."

Belle's heart stopped. "Cora?" she said quietly, "Who is that?"

"His ex-girlfriend. They dated for like a year when I was ten."

Belle knew the sting she felt in the center of her heart was irrational. Whoever this woman was, they hadn't seen each other in years. Yet…it still ached inside the thought of him with another woman, and older, more experienced woman.

"And she got him to wear the suits?" she asked.

"Yeah," Neal put his notebook down and cracked his neck to the side to release some knots. "I think she liked him all dressed up, but he liked it too, gave him a sense of authority or something."

"Oh," that made sense and it didn't necessarily mean he still carried a torch for her. "Who was she? Does she still live here?"

"No, she's Cora Mills, the senator's wife."

Belle gaped at him. "Senator Henry Mill's? But wait, how could she have dated your dad if she was married?"

"I think they were separated or something," Neal said, "I mean I was ten, I didn't really ask about the details. I didn't really think she wanted me around. She always had me and Regina go off somewhere whenever she was with my dad."

"Regina?"

"Her daughter. Regina was a few years older than me so we didn't really hang out that much. We both knew Cora just didn't want us in the way."

Belle frowned at him. She could see the tension in his shoulders and the way his fingers clenched just a bit. "You don't sound fond of her."

"I wasn't," he admitted, "My mom wasn't ever around so I was actually excited when my dad started dating again, but Cora was worse than my mom. My mom may not want to be a mother, but at least she could be warm. Cora is just…heartless," he said after a bit of thought, "She never showed much affection even to Regina. She always seemed to have an agenda, at least she was like that whenever my dad wasn't around."

"You think she was just using your dad?" Belle asked.

"I think she uses everybody," Neal told her, "I was glad when she left. My dad was brokenhearted for a little while, but I don't think he's even spoken to her in years."

Belle glanced back at the closed door to the study. She may have been glad to hear that he and Cora were no longer an item, but she hated the idea of him being heartbroken. It seemed Tristan Gold had never been lucky in love.

"Has your dad had any girlfriends since then?"

"No," Neal said, "I think he's decided he's better off alone."

"Do you think that?"

Neal pursed his lips a bit and then rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know. Maybe if he met someone who was actually good for him, who didn't care about his money or anything, not to mention could hold up against his temper. Yeah, if he could find someone like that, then I think he'd actually have a shot."

Belle looked back at the door, smiling just a bit. "I think there is someone for everyone."

"Please don't start talking about soul mates and crap like that," Neal said, "I got enough of that from that chick flick you made me watch last Saturday."

"It's not my fault _Casino Royale_ was sold out," she argued.

"You made us late because you were talking to my dad about books again."

"That's because you were taking too long getting your hair ready."

Their studying dissolved once again into a playful bickering match until Mr. Gold returned to tell them dinner would be ready. Belle didn't care that they didn't get much studying done. Getting to debate Mr. Gold about Milton's _Paradise Lost_ and Dante's _Inferno_ made it all worth it.

* * *

><p>AN: So Belle and Cora have squared each other off and Gold has seen Liam in person. How long do you think before the truth comes out? Even better, what exactly is the truth here? Please review and let me know what you think.

Next Chapter: Upon seeing Belle's living situation, Gold tries to figure out what happened to her after he left, mainly who the father of her son could be. Meanwhile, Cora starts digging into Belle's past on her own starts to worry about what she finds. Seven years ago, Gold reaches a dark place after the loss of his son and does something he never thought he would do.


End file.
